


As a Seedling Sprouts / Reaching For the Sun

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-09-15
Updated: 2002-09-15
Packaged: 2018-10-07 02:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10350537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: Warnings: Language; some violenceSeason: Early fifth, not because of spoilers but because of the passage oftime.Summary: Are seeds of kindness worth the turmoil of their planting?Daniel wants to make a difference, but his eyes see only tragedy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Stargate SG-1 | Gen Fanfiction | As a Seedling Sprouts / Reaching For the Sun

##  As a Seedling Sprouts / Reaching For the Sun

##### Written by Travelling One   
Comments? Write to us at [travelling_one@yahoo.ca](mailto:travelling_one@yahoo.ca)

  * SEASON: Early fifth, not because of spoilers but because of the passage of time. 
  * WARNINGS: language; some violence 
  * SUMMARY: Are seeds of kindness worth the turmoil of their planting? Daniel wants to make a difference, but his eyes see only tragedy. 
  * PG-13 [A] [D] 



* * *

Let us never forget the essence of Daniel Jackson.

06/25/02

 

The rains had seemed as though they would never end, and her legs and back ached as though she were an old woman who’d carried life’s burdens through many decades. Her hardships over the length of the fourteen years of her young life had refined and matured her, and the child of eleven had grown old even more quickly over the previous three years. Life and work in the fields was a never-ending torture, dawn until dark, rain or shine, through cold or heat, and all for a few morsels of food, most of which went directly to…who knew where. Not to the workers; they were told that stores and provisions were being set up, still, for future droughts, to alleviate the starvation of future generations. In the meantime, the workers were suffering. The hunger of the previous decades had not been forgotten, but the strain of these new ways…how much longer could they go on?

She looked up only briefly at the cries of her good friend. She could do nothing to help Amma, who had again fallen in the dirt. To help her would mean punishment for them both, and to be sent to stand all night in the rain and mud with no food or water for the day’s work would help neither of them. She had seen this before, many many times. Others being prodded and threatened by these cruel overseers, who cared not a stitch about the workers but only for their productivity at the end of each long day. Poor Amma. Shivering and cying, being pulled again from the mud where she had been planting her seeds until fever had overcome her young body. Amma was only twelve, and as near as she had to a sister, in this place where all were sent and separated into work groups, away from family for months at a time, or longer. They learned to take care of themselves, but not of each other. There was no room for compassion in this stark and desolate existence. 

"What’s going on here?"

She looked up at the voice, fear spreading through her body that Amma would be punished now for lagging behind in her work, for sitting in the mud when she should have been digging and planting. Amma was not so strong, and she had seen many die who could not handle their burdens, left alone in their sicknesses and weak from hunger. Those who could not work did not deserve food, was the philosophy these days.

This voice was unusual though, softer, the unaccustomed accent a bit difficult to understand. This voice belonged to a stranger, one with eyes blue like the sky in spring, and light colouring, different from their own dark hair and complexions, one who did not belong here. Was he a commander from afar? Yet he was not looking angrily at Amma, he was bending low and speaking as if to show concern.

She watched out of the corner of her eye with curiosity, so as to appear to be working still. The stranger was a definite distraction.

Amma was looking at the ground now, shivering, tears forming in her eyes from fear or aching or hope, but the stranger with the unusual accent had his hands on her shoulders, and was trying to help her up. "This one is sick," he said to the approaching overseer, who looked neither pleased nor accomodating. 

The overseer grabbed Amma, shoving her forward. "She knows there is work to be done. We have all had sickness before, and we have all had to work. The strong recover, the weak die," she heard him say, seeing his eyes glare from the corner of her eye as she watched.

The stranger’s eyes grew wide, his voice shook as he quietly spoke. What a contradiction, she mused, to show such anger with such quiet words. "How can you treat these children like this?" she heard him say. "How can you treat _any_ of these peoplelike this? They need medicine and rest, not to mention proper nourishment!" The stranger’s beautiful eyes glanced for a moment around the fields, flashing with confusion and sincerity.

The overseer roared. "You, be silent! I will **not** be spoken to with such audacity! We do not **tolerate** such rudeness, even from you! There shall be an example from this." With no further warning given, the overseer raised his musket and fired. She could not stifle her gasp as Amma fell face-down in the mud, blood mixing with rain water and soaking into the muddy field. "Take her to the shadows," his accomplices were ordered. As the stranger’s eyes widened with apparent shock, his expression radiated disbelief and horror. But the stranger was now silent.

"Take him to the company holding shelter for the diseased, along with the others." The overseer motioned towards three more strangers in the distance, who seemed as though they were in animated debate with each other. They were looking this way, now, their attention captured by the blast of the weapon. "And you – get back to work!" he shouted at her. She obeyed, trying not to let the tears over poor Amma gain control.

 

Part 2 

Daniel sat motionless in the darkness of the dingy room, away from the bodies sick with fever and delirium. "He shot her," he whispered hoarsely for the eighth or ninth time, to no one in particular. Just the echoed sound of the whispered words seemed to bring him momentarily out of his stupor. "He shot her." The wetness refused to spill from his eyes, yet would not evaporate.

Jack, troubled as well, knew he’d seen far too much here in the past six hours, far more than he’d ever be able to forget. But he was well aware that Daniel had the added weight of watching that girl die; hell, of being the cause of that girl’s death, and he didn’t know what to say to console his friend. Major Carter averted her own stinging eyes, and Teal’c remained silently observing the dismal room and its occupants.

"Why did they shoot her? **I** was the one speaking out, it wasn’t **her** fault." The whisper was no louder this time, just more intense.

"Geez, Daniel. You wanted him to shoot you instead?"

Daniel looked up to study Jack’s face. Guiltily, he responded,"No, Jack. But it would’ve made more sense."

"It was an example to the others either way, Daniel. No one will lift a hand to interfere once they see things like that." 

"Nothing here makes sense, Daniel." Sam’s voice was soft, yet agitated. 

"Daniel Jackson, you could not have known."

"Teal’c…I…I should have stopped him from firing. It…it… just happened so fast."

"Daniel, he had a mission. These people can’t be dictated to. It’s not like they’re the most rational of human beings."

"Colonel, I don’t understand what’s happened here. These fields seem so well-tended, so productive, and yet all around we’ve seen people labouring in pain and hunger. My god, look at these people!" Sam motioned into the deeper shadows around the far edges of the room. Moaning and curling up in agony, illness having overtaken them days before, young and old, children and adults lay untended, awaiting death.

"No one cares about them," Daniel muttered. "The only thing that matters here is being healthy and able to work." Even the sight of these people couldn’t take away the vision of a child being blasted to the ground, for something **he** had been trying to do. He thought he’d been helping. What exactly, had he expected? For the girl to be taken to a hospital? Then this is where she would have ended up. 

There were voices out in the hallway, but no one entered the room. Daniel listened, being the only one of his team who could understand the language. 

"They’re talking about us," he translated for his teammates. "Pending an investigation…they’re going to decide what to do with us…Can’t have us interfering in this wonderful culture they seem to have going for them," he muttered sarcastically.

Getting up from the cold floor where he’d been sitting, Daniel shuffled over to one of the children lying on a thin mat at a far end of the room. The boy was about ten years old, and had been staring at the newcomers through dazed peripheral vision. Daniel placed himself at the side of the mat, laying his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Eyes watched from all around, but the room was eerily silent in the faded light. Were these people even aware of the strangers, were they afraid? Was this just another injustice to them, being gazed upon by healthy ones? Or did their eyes reveal a wisdom, a knowledge that the four teammates from another world would never be able to comprehend? What were they thinking? What had happened over these past four years since SG1 had first visited this planet?

 

Part 3

__

Four years earlier

The boy was about eight, though he looked ageless, lying under the tree in his ragged shirt and shorts made from animal skins. The weather was too cool for such attire, yet he seemed not to notice. Beside him, his willowy friend watched the four travellers with concealed curiosity. What he was saying was not understood by any in the group, as the children rose, following the team at a safe distance.

As the SG-1 team wandered the tiny village, it was quickly apparent that there was little abundance. The land was dry, the fields in a poor state of neglect. Villagers’ tasks appeared aimless; a man slowly raking twigs from the burnt ground with a twisted stick, a woman roasting a single onion over a pit of smouldering rocks. Children wandered throughout the village, in their tattered rags, aimlessly kicking at stones or sleeping in the the warmth of the sunlight, their arms under their heads offering padded protection from the hard cracked ground.

"Mahira, mahira," an emaciated woman beckoned to the travellers with wrinkled exuberance as she pulled open the flap of a braided cloth hut, woven with animal hair and feathers. "Mahira," she called again, waving. 

"I think she’s inviting us in," Daniel reasoned.

"Okay…let’s mahira," Jack retorted. The two children watched, stopping outside the doorway as the team went in. They ignored the woman’s scolding tone of voice, admonishing them.

The inside of the shack was sparse, the floor was swept dirt and the thin fabric walls swayed in movement with each passing breeze. There was no furniture, just different coloured bits of animal skins spread out on the floor, where she indicated to the strangers to sit.

Smiling in merriment as they accepted her hospitality, the woman shuffled to a bucket and filled two ceramic mugs with a murky liquid, handing one to Major Carter and one to Daniel as they made themselves at home on her floor.

The colonel looked on with a frown as his two team members sniffed the containers’ contents. "Water," Sam answered his silent question.

"Water?"

"It’s probably the best she can do, Jack. These people don’t seem to have much." Daniel smiled at the woman, bowed his head towards her, and lifted the cup to his lips. "Thank you," he said in English.

The woman waited for him to drink, then took his cup, refilling it and offering it to Jack. She stood patiently, until Sam realized it was her own mug she was awaiting. Sam passed her cup to Teal’c, and the woman bowed.

The silence remained, for there was nowhere for their eyes to roam as topic of conversation, no questions to phrase in body language, and after a few awkward moments, Jack quietly broke the silence. "Uh, Daniel…?"

Daniel threw a sideways glance at his team leader, who motioned with a nod towards the entry flap. Daniel rose, bowing his head towards the woman. "Thank you," he said again, and stepped through the doorway into the cool sunshine. The woman remained watching from the door of her home, as the team continued down the sandy path. The children followed more closely.

"Do you see any shops around, Daniel? Markets, that sort of thing?" Jack’s question was plainly rhetoric, as the only structures around were several more of similar huts, some in an even poorer state of repair, with scraps of old fabric patching the outer perimeters. 

"No, Jack, do you?"

"I’m just saying…doesn’t look like they have a lot to eat here, does it?" Jack turned swiftly as he sensed a shadow creeping up from the rear, and the two startled boys jumped and ran a safe distance away. In one of the child’s hands was an MRE and a small packet of tissues.

"Daniel?"

Daniel turned to face the colonel. "What?"

"You’ve just been pick-pocketed."

The rest of SG-1 faced the boys, who had stopped in the distance and were now seemingly trying to figure out what to do with the package of dried food. Daniel turned his eyes to meet Jack’s. "Let’s treat them to a meal, Jack?" His request was a plea, but as he moved forward, the boys ran off, afraid to be caught, like seagulls with a slice of bread that they refused to be tricked out of.

The team observed the brown and brittle grasses, and the fields yielding a few withered and decaying crops. "We’ll send a team back, if Hammond approves, to teach them how to irrigate these fields."

"Do you think he might not, Sir?" Carter turned to Jack in concern.

"I can’t say, Major. There’s nothing for us here, the government might not be willing to put out the resources to help these people."

In silence, the team returned to the Stargate and home to the SGC.

A few weeks later, SG-5 had gone back to the planet with tools and equipment to study the weather patterns, cycles of rainfall, and to record the language which would then be interpreted back at the compound with Daniel’s help. After several months of observation, the team began its task of aiding the populace in planting seeds that were best suited for the planet’s climate, soil, and elevation, even teaching them about the construction and maintenance of irrigation ditches. Only the people living by the distant river had been seemingly well-fed, yet still not prosperous by anyone’s standards. All their time had been taken up trying to grow what meager crops they had. Corn, beans, and squash were not local to these people, yet suited their conditions well. Hopefully, their digestive systems would grow used to this new diet.

The team had remained for the better part of a year, to aid in the cultivation of the crops, teaching about how to deal with insects, plant diseases; already, the populace seemed well on its way to dictating its own survival and comfort, if not prosperity. The SG teams could only hope for continued growth; they had done what they could with the means they had been given.

Funds had been used that had no relevance to the Stargate program’s ultimate intentions, and no team had since returned to this planet. Through the intervening years, the members of SG-5 had been re-assigned after a promotion and a pregnancy, leaving General Hammond to decide that the final follow-up would be bestowed upon SG-1, what with Daniel having learned the language almost fluently. And so, Colonel O’Neill’s team had once again found themselves on PN4 116, a planet now reaping the benefits of four years of hard work and dedication, abundant in its growth, overflowing in its crop productivity… and keeping its young and old alike deeply embedded in farming slavery. 

_____

 

Part 4 

__

Company Holding Shelter for the Diseased

 

Daniel knelt by the young child, hesitatingly offering his hand in a gesture of comfort. The child neither resisted nor flinched, so Daniel touched his shoulder gently, leaving his hand there for a few moments of silent peace. The boy’s bare skin was clammy, and his open sores showed no signs of healing. Without proper sanitation and medication, Daniel knew the child had little chance for survival.

The boy observed the strangers warily. In the haze of his abdominal pain and respiratory discomfort, he had watched the light-eyed one drawing closer in this dark room of death and feigned healing, and he cringed in fear, though displaying no outward cowardly reaction. He would not cower for them, were they here to laugh, or scold, or chastize. But the light-eyed stranger sat down on his mat beside him, saying nothing, not even scowling. Instead, his face showed more of a …deep concern. 

The boy remembered this look. The memory was ingrained of his sister’s sweet face, four years his senior, his protector, his mentor. Mom and Dad had worked in the fields until they too had died, as he was undoubtedly fated to do. He knew the sounds of death, he knew its look. And now he knew its feel. 

Taken from his home three years earlier at the age of seven, he had reached out in terror to the sister who was being led away in her own direction, and he had not seen her since.

This stranger…these strangers…had his sister’s look in their eyes. 

A hand placed on his arm indicated that the newcomer was not even afraid of the boy’s weakness. Who was this man? Who were all these strange ones? Why were they here? He watched as the light-eyed one stroked his arm, unafraid to touch him as the others were, the overseers. There were no words from his lips, but the boy had learned to read eyes, and he smiled.

The stranger smiled back, a sad wistful smile. And then too soon he was gone, back to his friends across the room, and the boy sighed, for he wanted more.

_____

"Come with us." The door opened, and Meh ha Luengo, the overseer who had first complained about the meddlesome team, was allowing them passage. He said no more, just held open the door with accusing eyes.

Jack shrugged at his teammates, and, his face neutral, led the way out of the dismal room. "Think you can get us our weapons back?" he muttered to Daniel, who just looked down at his feet, and shrugged.

The team followed Meh ha into a room that seemed terribly out of place in this building, in this village. Padded chairs lined in two rows faced a brightly painted desk, behind which sat a highly overdressed and seemingly pompous dignitary. His shoulders were padded with assorted cloths covering the stiff high-collared blue jacket. He was overweight, as were several of the dozen or so men in the chamber, causing Jack to wonder exactly where all the food was going.

The team was motioned to take some seats.

"This one," the man behind the desk pointed his finger straight towards Daniel, "has caused an uproar."

Jack screwed up his face at the tone of voice and gesture, casting a momentary look at Daniel’s pained features. "What did he say?" he asked his teammate.

Instead of responding, Daniel stood. Gazing at each of the men in the room in turn, he addressed them in the language that could not be followed by his teammates, but his body language gave evidence of what was being said. "You killed a little girl for no reason. I was only trying to help her."

The large man stared at Daniel, hatred lining his eyes. "We have standards to uphold. Our people have learned they must work. Without work, we have no food, and everyone dies."

"Daniel," Jack whispered, "ask him how he got so fat."

Daniel continued. "Yes, everyone must help in the growing of food. That doesn’t mean you have to take away their right to their own food, and medical treatment. And rest," he added. "We came here several years ago, and your people had no food. We taught you what to plant, gave you seeds. Now, your people live in slavery. How did this happen?"

"You come with judgement, you haven’t lived our lives."

"No…. No, we haven’t. But we saw how you lived four years ago, and we see how you live now. And where are Tem ah Weh, and Ranna Meh? The leaders we worked with the first time our people came."

"They have not survived. It has been a harsh period. Now, we must keep our people working so we can save food for the future."

"For the future? What about the present? And where do these people live, where are their homes?" The village huts had been transformed into wooden barracks, rows upon rows of washed-out structures, the only one of which they’d seen the inside of had been the "hospital". "You say we judge you wrongly; then show us more of your ways. Show us we’re wrong."

"You wish to see where they live? You wish to partake in my people’s lives? You are lucky that we know who you are, for we should make an example of your impudence and kill you all in front of the workers. But we will give you a chance to see the importance of keeping our standards…and our discipline. Without it, people grow weak and lazy. They would not work. Yes… we **will** show you you are wrong." With that, he rose from his seat, and made his way out of the brightly lit and colourful chamber.

Meh ha Luengo approached SG-1. "Rise," he said coldly. "You are free to wander the fields, to see our new way of life, all that has come to pass since your people first came this way." The words were spoken , but the voice would not look them in the eye.

"Yes, let’s go look around," Colonel O’Neill agreed after Daniel had translated all that had been said. "Although I thought that’s what we’d been invited to do when we came through the gate."

"As long as we didn’t get in their way, I guess," Daniel commented quietly. "Or challenge them."

"Yeah. Well. They don’t know you very well."

_____

While the team had been allowed to wander the fields and village, they also knew a close eye was being kept on them from all angles and perspectives. Nowhere did they turn without finding guards watching intently their every move, listening to every conversation between Daniel and the workers.

Daniel had been involved in a troubled conversation with a teenage boy for almost twenty minutes. What he was hearing had disturbed him deeply.

"So you haven’t seen your family since you were brought here two years ago?"

"I have not," the boy’s eyes searched the ground in which he had stopped placing his seeds.

"What happens if you ask to visit?"

"One does not ask."

"Why **not**?"

"It is seen as laziness, a greater desire for one’s self than for the good of the populace."

"But what would happen?" Daniel persisted. 

"We are sent to the cabins without food, to think about our weakness. We get food once again only when we have apologized for asking the unforgivable." 

Daniel’s hand on his shoulder felt comforting…a feeling of human presence that he had not dared to hope for for two years.

"You should be allowed to see your family, your home. Everyone needs that. It does _not_ mean you’re lazy." Daniel spoke softly, reassuring him.

The boy looked into Daniel’s eyes for the first time. "It does not matter," he said solemnly. "My family would no longer be at our old home. They may no longer even be alive."

"And you have no way of finding out," Daniel statingly questioned.

"No."

As the strangers wandered on, the boy watched, and wondered, longing for the old days when his family had had little food but had at least been together. He spared a glance at the younger boy tending his own section of field beside him. "Don’t worry," he said to the young one. "We will one day find our homes. And we will have families of our own, who do not have to labour as we do." The child working beside him almost smiled, but did not look up.

_____

"Can we go in?" Jack had vague memories of a woman calling them into her humble home of cloth, offering his team her precious water as she made them comfortable. She may have had little, but she had her dignity, humour, and own brand of merriment. There was no sense of hospitality left surrounding these stark structures, and no one seemed to be around to want to invite them inside. All the villagers were out in the fields.

"Come," called a voice, and they spun around to see an armed guard motioning to them. "You can see my home."

Following, they were led into a well-kept building, decorated with colourful rugs and hangings. Furniture was plentiful, and it was evident that the man’s young toddlers were well-fed and content as they playfully battled each other on the rugs with some toys. "You see," he said, "We are happy and taken care of. There is nothing we need."

"Think all the homes look like this?" Jack queried.

"Sir…I caught a glimpse through some open doorways as we came past. Workers’ homes, I think…." her voice trailed off. "Sir, they were dark and dingy, with cracked walls and bare shelves."

"So this is a set-up, of sorts? What they want us to see?"

"I’d bet on it, Jack. The people I’ve spoken to haven’t seemed ‘happy and well-cared for’."

"So as the rich get richer…"

"So it would seem, O’Neill." Even Teal’c knew the old saying, somehow.

"I guess it pays to be a guard, then." Daniel surmised.

"And the better the guard at what he does," Sam continued, "the more guaranteed his job…and status, and happiness."

"So these guards will never relent in their discipline of these people."

"We’ve seen this on Earth. We can’t change people’s ways of thinking and behaving," Jack responded matter-of-factly.

"We changed them four years ago, Jack."

"Yes. Well Daniel, they were _all_ hungry then."  


_____

Daniel was wary of lifting another young lady out of the mud, but this time he did not call an overseer, just knelt and spoke to her quietly. "Sit and rest a while," he said. "I won’t let anyone hurt you while my friends and I are here." The teenager looked at SG-1 gratefully, relieved to have a few moments’ rest. Her pregnant belly caused her back to ache, and her heart was filled with sadness knowing she would not be allowed to keep her child. The guard who had caused this would never allow her to leave the fields to tend to a baby. 

"It will be _taken_ from you?" Daniel repeated, horrified. The girl only nodded. 

"Jack… these leaders are no better than the Goa’uld," Daniel’s voice whispered through its pain.

The look in the stranger’s eyes, almost as if he knew how she felt, and the soft lyrical sounds of his friend’s voices, caused her to feel something in her heart that had long ago vanished, or so she’d thought. ‘ _My child will have a better home_ ,’ she convinced herself, ‘ _and one day I will teach him that kindness does still exist, if one only allows himself to see_.’

_____

His team’s stagnant silence, Carter’s downcast features, Daniel’s dejected demeanor finally stopped Jack in his tracks. "Sit," he motioned to some rocks along their pathway. 

With no verbal response, the two scientists acquiesced.

Teal’c remained standing, looking upon the CO with enquiring eyes.

"I’ve seen enough. We’ll report to Hammond that food production is increasing, but the government’s changed."

Daniel’s voice was bitter, but quiet. "Tell him we messed up."

"Daniel?"

"It’s our fault. Did we make their lives better?"

"The whole population was slowly dying of starvation, Daniel," Sam said softly.

"And now they’re dying of everything else," he retorted. 

"This was not of our doing, Daniel Jackson."

"We interfered. Screwed up. Didn’t teach them how to handle their new accomplishments, and now they have to deal with their greed."

"Brought them right into the tweny-first century, hmmm? Too fast," Jack retorted, not taking his eyes off his youngest teammate.

"We have to try to teach them a better way."

"Sorry, Daniel. From hereon in, they’re going to have to figure it our for themselves. We can’t change them."

"They have to rebel against the leaders, Jack…the overseers."

"What, Daniel? You want to start a rebellion? How? I think this is something these people have to figure out by themselves."

"Jack…"

"TELL me you disagree with that, Daniel."

Daniel was silent. _No, they couldn’t change these people. They’d tried to give them a better life, but they hadn’t been ready, hadn’t been psychologically prepared._

"Let’s go home," Daniel said quietly.

As the team headed in the direction of the Stargate, overseers and guards made their way across the fields towards them. 

"Leaving already? You have seen that your judgements were wrong?" Meh ha Luengo intercepted them.

"No. You are cruel, egotistical, selfish, greedy bastards," Daniel looked him straight in the eye. _With his calm voice, Jack probably thought he was being diplomatic._

Ha Luengo gritted his teeth, speaking accusingly."We have seen those you spoke with, they have lost many precious working moments by sitting in the dirt, speaking with each other, reaching for water before it is even their break time. Yet you still don’t agree that this lack of discipline will cost us in the end?"

"They were only resting!" Daniel cried out. "Resting helps a person work longer, faster."

"No. Resting leads to more resting, then sloppiness and lack of production. So," he stood but a few inches from Daniel’s face, "we will continue with our own discipine. It works. No one takes advantage, and we have great productivity." He motioned to the guards. "Bring them." 

"Daniel?" Sam and Jack’s voices echoed each other. 

"I don’t know." 

The four teammates stood watching as the guards roughly brought forth from their stations some of those Daniel had been conversing with. The teenage boy, the pregnant woman, three youngsters under the age of ten, an older woman, and two twins who had for some reason been allowed to remain together. 

Out across the working fields, raised eyes remained in bowed heads; all were watching, trying not to be conspicuous. 

"I have my orders," Meh ha Luengo stated calmly, staring Daniel in the eye. Workers and teammates all looked to one another in confusion, in fear, when suddenly muskets were raised and with multiple thundering volleys, the eight villagers were lying dead in the mud. 

" **NO!!"** Daniel’s agonized cry rang out, as he sank to his knees beside them. 

The cursing and hatred flowing from O’Neill’s mouth were nearly wasted on the overseers, for they could understand only the body language but not the words. Grinning smugly, they spit down upon Daniel, down upon the silently bleeding bodies, their own people yet not their own, and turned back towards their usual positions on the field. "You! Get back to work!" they spouted here and there, to those who were not yet quick enough to avoid their eyes and mask their emotions.

And on his knees Daniel was staring; no, not staring, for his eyes were closed, his lips tight, and tears were coursing down his cheeks, along his nose, but he made barely a sound.

Sam lowered herself beside him; placing her arm around his shoulder, she too, closed her eyes, blocking out the sight, and tried to calm her rage.

Jack lowered his head, in anger, in frustration, in grief, for both the village labourers and for his friend. These were the people who had been touched by Daniel’s kindness. These were the people who had just paid the price for sharing with him. And his team was the one that had come to this land four years ago, to start off a wheel rolling in desperation. _Let’s treat them to a meal, Jack?_

Daniel wept almost silently in his grief, and Teal’c was now standing behind him, his large comforting hand on Daniel’s shoulder. Sam remained with her arm around Daniel’s waist, her own eyes open now, gazing out at the horror they’d caused. 

_____

 

He had heard the shots, even from his mat in the cold gloomy room, and he hoped that the strangers had not been the ones to be destroyed. He looked around at those other ailing soulmates in this dismal place, and knew that they had all heard as well. Faces registering shock, sorrow; not just for those who had upset the overseers enough to lose their lives, but for the lost kindnesses of the newcomers, who would now probably never return with their ways of gentleness and concern. The light-eyed one…he had related more with twenty minutes of silence, than all the threats of the overseers in the three years the boy had been enslaved here, in the name of prosperity for all. One day, he knew…one day, one of those in here would be healed, perhaps it would be himself, and on that day, he would offer the same kindnesses he was now remembering from his recent yet so distant childhood. He would be like his sister…like the stranger with the comforting light eyes.

A hand reached out to the boy, and touched his shoulder. Looking up, he saw it was the woman who had been in here before him, who had never smiled. She was not afraid to touch him, as the others were……had been. More hands came, and he smiled and slept.

_____

"Daniel."

His friend’s head hung, and Daniel had slouched to rest on his heels, eyes still closed. What was Daniel seeing in there, in his mind? Jack tried in vain once more to get his teammate to rise. He couldn’t allow the trauma of this to transform into shock.

"Daniel. We should go." Sam had moved to the side, letting Jack take her place beside the archaeologist. He reached up to gently hold his friend’s shoulders. "Daniel."

Then, the barely audible whisper signalled that the young scientist was still alert, still connected to his surroundings. "I only wanted to make a difference."

_____

Her heart ached. She had watched the stranger with the unusual accent treat her good friend Amma with respect, even being the field worker she was. Amma had paid the price, but was now in a happier place…or at least without sorrow and pain. And she wanted this respectfulness back, for all her people. The massacre had hurt the strangers, caused them grief and despair, she could see that. The one who had been kind to Amma was still on the ground, unmoving…why? Why had he cared? 

She had seen the strangers make their rounds, had watched from her peripheral vision without the guards noticing, for their minds had been elsewhere. She remembered such kindness, from back in her own past, and she wanted it again.

__

My children will grow up knowing kindness, she vowed. _My children will grow up knowing peace_. _My children_ , she convinced herself, _will grow up knowing how a stranger is to be properly treated. For you never know when a stranger can change your very existence._ And that pledge eased her heart, settling the despair and sorrow she had learned to live with since becoming a pawn in the games of the leaders. 

And looking down at the field at her feet, she continued to plant her seeds.

 

*********************************

 

****

TWO

: **Reaching for the Sun**

****

 

"You are going nowhere." Two overseers held their muskets towards SG-1, as the team had tried to return to the gate. Even Daniel, who had remained withdrawn and unresponsive, was forced to look up.

"Why are you stopping us from returning home?" he questioned them, feeling tension and anger boiling inside. The outraged glares from his teammates were his backup, although they could not understand the verbal transaction.

"You have seen our ways, yet you still judge us harshly. You will not return to bring more havoc upon us."

"Just let us go. We won’t come back."

"We cannot trust your words."

And so, once again SG-1 found themselves being detained in the Company Holding Shelter for the Diseased.

_____

Part 1

 

The boy had been both relieved and saddened to see the strangers thrust back into the room, for he knew they were still alive, yet they were not free.

The looks on the faces of those around him were contained; wary, they were not prepared to demonstrate any emotions, to yet let loose their thoughts. They would, for now, just observe. 

The light-eyed male seemed more vacant than he had before, silently staring at them yet not appearing to really see.

The others…well, they seemed weary, heavy-hearted, melancholy, hard; had one day in the fields changed them already? But they touched the light-eyed one, their hands on his arms, on his back; no, they had not relinquished their ways. 

__

Please, do not let our ways destroy you.

_____

Jack sat on the dirty mat, his back resting against the gray wall. What could he say that would make anything better? Sam had already tried. _Daniel, it wasn’t your fault_. Daniel knew that, intuitively; but how could he not accept blame for having tried to respond to these people, knowing the mentality of those in charge? SG-1 had believed they truly were free to walk around and chat… well, only Daniel could actually chat. _Daniel, you couldn’t have known_. He might have known, he’d seen it once already. 

__

Daniel, when your tears fade, will you let your agony go too?

Jack closed his eyes. He was furious, confused, tired, and … did he mention furious? Worried, too. Why couldn’t they go home? And what could he do for his broken teammate?

_____

The boy watched in contained gladness as the light-eyed stranger once again made his way over to his mat, and lowered himself to the boy’s level. Would the comforting hand again touch his shoulder?

He had not long to wait, for the stranger not only was holding his hand, but speaking…oh, so very very softly.

"I’m so sorry there’s no one here to take care of you. It shouldn’t be like this. We didn’t want it to have been like this." 

And there the stranger sat, until darkness came in through the high barred windows and he could no longer make out the stranger’s face.

_____

Too many guards came into the room with the paltry meals and liquid that served as water, too many for SG-1 to react with no weapons of their own. So as the next day passed, they shared the grim food as well as the buckets in the corners of the room, which were emptied by the guards once a day. SG-1 had no way of knowing whether these ill people were usually confined, or if the doors were locked on _their_ account, but they supposed the locks were meant solely to keep SG-1 in…for where did these people have to go, anyway?

The guards burst in once more, weapons trained on SG-1…

That is, all but one. 

One solitary guard headed straight for the boy, grabbing him by the arm with a gloved hand and pulling him up.

"What are you doing?" Daniel growled, his first major reaction since they’d been returned to this place.

The guard roughly raised the arm that contained many of the open sores. "He is not healing, his disease will spread." Throwing the boy to the ground, the guard raised his musket and took aim, the deafening blast perceptibly shaking the room. Blood spread quickly around the body with the now unseeing eyes, as the guards gathered the boy up and swiftly left the room, bolting the door once more.

SG-1 was left gaping.

"Colonel…?" Sam’s heavy eyes were flooding, and she was straining to forestall the inevitable.

But Jack caught her gaze for only a moment, not knowing what to say. 

Daniel numbly stared at the smeared blood on the floor, before lying on his own dirty mat, face up to stare at the ceiling.

_____

Another shot from inside the hospital, startling them from their musings. There was but one brief pause, one slight hesitation in the rhythm of their planting, until all continued as though nothing had happened.

She watched from the corner of her eye, as the body was removed from the lurid building and taken out back to the shadows.

_____

At Jack’s urging and insistence, Daniel had agreed to question the others, and they had spoken.

"The dead ones are taken to the pile. They are taken to the pile…the _shadows_ … and then they are burned."

"No one is buried, no one is mourned?" Daniel was edging deeper and deeper into grief.

"The soil is for planting. There is no ground for burials."

__

No ground for burials, he repeated to himself. _No grounds for mourning_. No grounds for such inhuman behaviour towards one’s fellow citizens.

__

What the hell have we done, here.

_____

Part 2

 

It had been nearly three full days now, and SG-1 knew that sometime tomorrow, contact would be made by Hammond to find out if they were alright. Less than a day and they’d be overdue.

"When they don’t reach us, Hammond will send a search team."

"What if they are "detained" as we are, O’Neill?" Teal’c queried.

"They’ll have their weapons, Teal’c, and they’ll be aware something’s wrong. They won’t be taken easily. Anyway," he added, looking at Daniel, "you can tell that Meh ha person that our people will just keep coming and coming, and if they want to get rid of us for good they’d better let us all go."

But Daniel was staring into somewhere, and remained silent.

"Daniel?…Daniel! Did you hear what I said?"

His attention focussing again, Daniel nodded solemnly, dreading telling his CO what he was about to, wishing he could sink into multi-dimenstional space and disappear until all was well with the world…worlds. "I can’t go with you, Jack." Daniel looked forlorn, his voice subdued.

Jack glared at him. _Oh for crying out loud, now what?_ " **Now** what **,** Daniel?" _Don’t say one word about starting a rebellion, Daniel, I won’t hear it._

But Daniel said nothing, just lifted the bottom of his shirt to display the sore on his abdomen.

"Daniel…" Carter looked stricken.

Jack stared. "We have to get you to the infirmary ASAP."

"I can’t bring a disease back to Earth, Jack."

"We’ve all been exposed, Daniel," Sam said softly.

"But I’m the only one who touched him."

__

Uh-uh, Daniel, not hearing that either. "And we touched you," Jack reminded him.

"Yes…sorry about that." Daniel frowned. "And as long as you’re all fine, I think I’ll just go stay…over there." He stepped over to the boy’s now empty mat, and sank down.

Jack made his way over. "Come on, Daniel, don’t do this."

"Stay away from me, Jack. I mean it."

"Daniel…" Jack sat down beside his friend, but didn’t touch him. Teal’c and Sam made their way over, and they too, lowered themselves to the floor.

"My symbiote will protect me from disease, Daniel Jackson."

"We’re all in this together, Daniel," Sam soothed. "And for all we know, that might be nothing more than an alien strain of chicken pox."

"And we’re not leaving here without you," Jack added firmly.

The ill ones watched this strange interaction, understanding no words yet understanding it all. They had seen the light-eyed one’s illness beginning, and now they saw his friends sitting beside him. The woman reached her hand out to the youngster beside her, and squeezed gently. For the second time this week, she almost smiled.

_____

 

Hazy light filtered into the room as the guards entered with water and slices of hard bread for the morning meal, the only one until nighttime. They noticed Daniel waking up on the mat, surrounded by his friends. 

Jack was ready to grab the opportunity. "Tell them hordes of our people will be coming through the Stargate today to look for us, Daniel. Tell them if they don’t want more trouble, they need to let us go."

Daniel rose, as the guards swung their weapons towards him, weapons which now included SG-1’s rifles and sidearms. 

Daniel stopped abruptly, raising his hands to show he intended no aggression. "Please, listen to me. Our people will be coming today to find out what has happened to us. You need to let us go. We’ll leave you alone."

But the guards were focussing elsewhere…on the underside of Daniel’s arm, where an open blister was evident. A guard closed in, grabbing and lifting his t-shirt before SG-1 could react. Four more sores were exposed, as the guards trained their weapons on SG-1…

…It all happened too quickly, like a flash of lightning that captures one’s attention and then is gone before one can fully look its way.

And dimly, their brains registered that the gun was raising, that they were outnumbered and weaponless, and that was all the time they had to almost think.

Daniel saw it coming, saw it happening, one rapid motion while his mind slowed it down like a thought being sucked into a black hole. A moment of terror, as the gun swung up to face him, and his life did not flash before his eyes.

Surprise, yes…fear. Panic. Alarm, sorrow, helplessness, grief; the emotions flitted through his being at the speed of light.

And then with a single cry Daniel was down, and all he felt was pain, breathlessness leading him into unconsciousness, his blood dripping onto the floor, the guard now lowering his newly acquired Baretta.

"Oh my god…… Daniel….." the low moan of grief issued from Carter as she moved forward but the guards held her back.

"You fucking goddamn sons of bitches…" Jack spewed wildly as his rage and fury broke, lashing out violently against the grasp of the guards, getting in rabid, fiery elbow punches at those holding him as two of the men lifted Daniel, one under the arms, one under the knees, and swept him out of the room.

Swinging their rifles and firing at the walls, the guards backed out of the room, as Jack felt new arms holding him back, barely registering the words, "Do not get yourself killed as well, O’Neill." The door was closed and bolted, and Daniel was gone, his blood dripping a trail.

_____

The ill ones shared the horror of the newcomers. _His body will be taken to the pile, where it will be burned. No, there are no burials, there is no mourning. Not in practice, at any rate… not out in the open…_

Sam lay on the dirty mat, face down, not even trying to diminish her sobs. This place was a mistake, they had no right… _Oh God, dear Daniel._

Jack’s tirade had raged on; having freed himself from Teal’c’s grasp, he had pounded on the locked door until his hands stung, cursed and yelled until his throat was hoarse, kicked the door until his knees ached. Now, he sat with his knees up, head in his hands. So helpless, so…so…

Everything. Anger, rage, sorrow, dismay, anguish, despair, fear… emptiness. General Hammond, you’re too late, damn you. Damn you. 

Damn you.

Don’t you people dare fucking burn his body.

_____

She had seen them from afar, removing the body from the building, one of the newcomers, she could tell from the clothing. _Please, don’t let it be the one who had been so kind to Amma, to them all_ … no matter which it was, she mourned. The strangers had all been pleasant, even though the others would not speak.

That was several hours ago, when the new day had just been beginning. Now, she watched as more of their kind approached from the direction of the round gateway. Were they coming to take the strangers home? _There will be trouble_ , she thought. _Please let the strangers be victorious_. 

And she continued planting her seeds.

_____

Part 3

 

"Your people are arriving. **Go** …interfere no more." SG-1 could not understand the words, but the door was open. Leaving it that way, the guards turned their backs as SG-1 quickly exited the dingy, depressing room.

Once outside, Jack turned to his teammates. "Do you remember where they told Daniel the "pile" is? We’re not leaving here without him. And if he’s been…" Jack paused, grimacing, "… some of those bastards will be very dead before we leave here."

_____

 

There was the pain…oh yes, the pain…

But losing consciousness had been best for the brief respite from the stench of decaying corpses beneath him.

And now, now…

The body thrown on top was pressing him down, pressing him deeper into the others, a ghastly burden weighing upon him, heavier, heavier, suffocating him, digging in with its unknowing motionless terror, _his_ terror, growing more wicked in its persistence, its presence, and the pain of a wound in his shoulder, the smell, the fear, the panic…

And he was sorry he’d awoken, for the smell was overpowering but he couldn’t move, trapped between another and _them_. 

_‘I’ll die, I’ll gladly die, if you find me somewhere else to do it._ ’ His spirit was speaking, but his body wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t cooperate, couldn’t. He couldn’t move, and he could barely breathe. ‘ _Don’t leave me here_ ,’ he remembered pleading, but they’d walked away, giving no indication that they’d even heard.

His sobs were low and choking, strangled from the weight upon him, the decaying bodies below him, and he had no space to be sick but it didn’t matter, he couldn’t stop it from happening. 

‘ _Don’t leave me here_ ,’ he begged again, the words echoing, spoken only in his mind; but it had been hours and was already too late.

Trapped in a state of saturated horror, his mind drifted in its attempt to take him away, to save him, to protect him from outward evils, and he drifted in and out of his multi-dimensional phase of being, ridding himself of the indignities wallowing around him, flooding and surging and entering the darkness that his spirit now longed for.

The sobs ceased, for the horror and pain regained control and eased Daniel back into unconsciousness, from which he expected never to awaken.

__

Please, let death be easier than my life.

_____

Part 4

 

Not a place they’d have dared look at, if it hadn’t been so important, hadn’t been one of their own, one so close to their hearts. Not a place they’d think of stepping into or touching with their bare hands. They could barely handle the stench, and the maggots were crawling. Yet it was a blessing, relatively speaking, that the pile had gone without burning.

They could see him, so near the top. They wouldn’t touch most of the others. This was not how individuals should have to end their lives.

Jack had intended to lift the unfortunate individual off him gently, but before he could say a word, Teal’c had thrown the corpse off to the side, urgently reaching his own damaged teammate lying motionless underneath.

Sam looked in horror at the acitivy, standing beside SG-9, barely managing to keep her composure, yet determined not to lose control again. Not until she was alone and safely stashed in her own place, would her grief resurface.

Jack felt his stomach playing nasty tricks, forcing him to turn away, briefly, before summoning the courage to touch his friend, confirmation of the worst thing that could ever have happened on a mission. That could not really be someone he knew, lying there on that decomposing mound, someone he cared about.

Daniel’s eyelids fluttered, then stilled. 

Jack’s eyes widening in disbelief, he held his fingers to his friend’s jugular. "He’s alive," he croaked out. "Daniel, can you hear me?" _Damnit, you’ve been lying here all morning… **please** tell me you haven’t been awake._

"What did he **do**?" A horrified voice from SG-9.

"He became ill," Teal’c answered.

"No," O’Neill lamented. "He annoyed them. He questioned their methods. Geez, is all this blood his own?"

"I don’t think so, Sir."

"It is well that they did not practice the proper use of our firearms, O’Neill. Perhaps they did not realize he survived." Teal’c caught the relief in his leader’s eyes, and knew it reflected his own. The fate of his young friend had distressed him deeply.

"Teal’c, you can’t be carrying disease. Go on ahead and let Fraiser know to set up quarantine conditions for all of us."

Jack gripped Daniel’s hands in his own. "Aw, Daniel, look at you," he whispered. "We’re taking you away from here. You don’t have to be scared any more, we’re here for you." He turned to the nearest two members of SG-9. "Help me carry him."

Sam bent close, stroking Daniel’s cheek. "It’s okay now, Daniel," she said softly. "You’ll be okay. It’s okay. We’re taking care of you now."

Daniel’s eyelids fluttered once more, but remained closed.

_____

As SG-1 and 9 made their way back towards the fields that would take them to the Stargate, carrying their unconscious, wounded, but breathing teammate, weakened bodies slowly poked themselves out of the doorway to the building of the Company Holding Shelter, all those who could walk. They were watching, understanding for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Guards and overseers lifted their weapons.

And she dropped her handful of seeds, promising Amma that she would not forget her. Then she, slowly at first and then more quickly, left her spot on the field and made her way towards the strangers.

The guards looked around, first at her, then at the meddlesome newcomers, but she continued, taking her chances, thinking still of her young friend Amma. She no longer felt only the fourteen years of age that her body displayed.

More followed. Slowly at first, and then more quickly.

They left their positions, left their seeds, and made their way to where SG-1 was carrying an injured light-eyed stranger, a stranger no longer.

Until the newcomers were surrounded, and the guards did not know what to do.

As the labourers gathered, something new swept their features, a determination, a satisfaction. Memories, of souls who deserved more than to be governed by intimidation and fear.

Although he was in a hurry to get Daniel back home, back to where he could be healed, Jack stopped. He wished he could understand the words, as a very young woman, a girl, spoke matter-of-factly, yet calmly, bravely, to the overseers.

"We will see these strangers safely to their gateway," she said. "After that, we will mourn the others. Only then," she continued, "will we return to our work in the fields."

"You will return now, or you will be shot," a heavyset man in a stiff high-collared blue jacket spoke up angrily.

"You will shoot us all?" _I may soon be with you, Amma, but I don’t think so_. "Then who will grow the food?"

The overseers and guards looked at the crowd. There was no one left in the field, no one at all.

They lowered their weapons, and grudgingly backed away.

**

They all stopped at the Stargate, escorts and SG teams together, and she placed her hand on Daniel’s forehead _. There is little fever, he may yet survive_. To the newcomers she spoke aloud, hoping they would understand the meaning behind her words, behind her voice. "Please… come back, some day." The gray-haired one looked intensely into her own dark eyes, eyes filled with hope and confidence, but she knew he did not understand.

Or maybe he did.

**The End**

  


* * *

  


> AUTHOR’S NOTES: Inspired by When Broken Glass Floats, a story of Cambodia, by Chanrithy Him.

* * *

>   
> © September 6, 2002 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and   
> solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.   
> 

* * *

  



End file.
